


Alternative Current

by CynicalYazuka



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Gen, Pre Hope's Peak, Souda Kazuichi - Freeform, black haired Souda, sad shit i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalYazuka/pseuds/CynicalYazuka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souda Kazuichi is a typical 8th-grade nobody. <br/>No substantial friends, an odd talent, and a shoddy past, he decides one day that enough is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rise and Shine

Souda Kazuichi never looked forward to weekdays.  
Saturdays, a relief.  
Sundays, growing anxiety.  
By Sunday night, he was already in a cold sweat about the hours that lay ahead.  
By the time his eyes blinked open at the shrill sound of an alarm on Monday, he prayed for illness, a natural disaster, a family situation. Anything to delay his arrival at Michishige Middle School, also known as his personal hellhole.  
Today was no exception. 

bleep. bleep. bl-  
Almost like a subconscious reflex, Kazuichi tossed a wrench that was laying next to him up in the air, which shot up and back down onto the alarm clock. With a sputter and a few sounds that were reminiscent of a dying computer, the device at his bedside went silent. A few sparks shot up into the air, as well as a spring that landed and bounced off of the back of the boy’s head.  
A muffled “ow”.  
He reached up and ruffled the ebony hair at the spot that had been hit. Ah, yes. Monday. The very day in which he had been dreading since he stepped out of school 3 days ago. Honestly, he didn’t care if The Rapture happened this very second. He couldn’t do school. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not today.  
Heaving himself up into a sitting position, he stretched his back, feeling the crack and pop of his joints. The world around him was still blurry, but he could still see sunlight seeping in from the window.  
What time was it, anyways?  
He fumbled around for his glasses.  
“Dammit...where are…”  
He brushed along the surface of his bedside table, barely touching the corpse of the destroyed alarm clock.  
“Ngh….a- oh.”  
His hands closed around the intricate framework of plastic and lenses. They were cool to the touch.  
Slipping them on his face (no….more like sloppily setting them on his nose), Souda let himself fall back onto the bed. His mind was buzzing.  
Staring up at his now in-focus ceiling, the mechanic sighed profusely. A lot of things were happening all at once, and it was taking a toll on him. For one, he had just been accepted into the prestigious Hope’s Peak Academy, which, pardon his French, blew his fucking socks off. School was getting more intense by the day, as it always did in the dead of May. And it wasn’t like he had anyone to talk to about the situation. His dad was always in the bike shop, tinkering around, or lazing on the couch and blowing up the limited expenses they had. His mother worked late, late hours, and was only awake when he was asleep. No siblings.  
It’s not like my social life is stellar, either… He thought bitterly. He was what the kids would call…. a complete geek. Glasses, awkward teeth, gangly stance, weird hobbies, seems like Souda had it all. The closest thing to a friend he had was a boy by the name of Tetsubo Takumi, a robotics enthusiast in Grade 12. He wasn’t the friendliest of people, but was willing to put up with Souda’s heated rambling.  
Other than that…..  
He grimaced. Best not to think about the other kids at school.  
With a great groan, he sat back up, planting his callused toes on the floor. He was most likely already on the road to tardiness, laying in bed fearing the day ahead would do him no good.  
He waded through the mess on his floor. Sleep was still lingering around his dark eyes; he rubbed it off with the back of his hand.  
As he was pulling off the shirt he slept in, he heard a clatter or two below his feet.  
Dad’s at it again.  
It wasn’t even 7 am, and he was already screwing around (no pun intended) in the family’s unsuccessful bike shop. If it wasn’t for his damned alarm clock, Souda probably would have woken up to gross banging.  
Lovely.  
He wished that his dad would snap into reality and realize that the low-end bike repair shop wasn’t bringing in much, and when they did get a little something, it was usually due to Souda’s mechanical talent. They would be a lot better off.  
Instead, his little family of 3 (which felt like a family of 1) was stuck in a small, one story house in the bad part of Osaka, Japan. His mom’s pay was just enough to keep the lights on and the water running, and food in the fridge, but that was it. Nothing else to do except go to school, complete homework and tinker around with the fucked-up bikes his old man collected.  
It was a fine embarrassment.  
Another animalistic groan. His brain only just notified him now that he had skipped dinner yesterday, and that he was FAMISHED.  
In a clumsy hurry, he jumped out of his boxers, clamoring around to find fresh ones, while mentally scanning the contents of the pantry.  
Looks like he’ll be having cup ramen again.  
As soon as his school uniform hit his shoulders, he was out of his room, hopping on one foot to pull up his other pant leg.  
The banging grew louder as he neared the garage door, which connected with their kitchenette and small living room.  
He seems hard at work.  
Kazuichi swung open the door.  
“Mornin’, Pop!”  
A grunt in response.  
Typical.  
He let the door swing shut.  
Ramen was a breeze. He’d made it so many times, it was almost like an instinct. So much so, that it blended into everyday life like sneezing or going to the restroom.  
On second thought, thinking of the restroom while making food isn’t the wisest thing to do.  
Kazuichi gulped down the cheap fare so hard he thought his throat was scalded. Yep, there was no doubt about it, he was tardy.  
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck  
Slinging his backpack on his shoulder, the teen catapulted into the garage once more, hopped on a bike, and sped off onto the sidewalk.  
Of course, no farewell from his father.  
The wind in his hair made a loud rushing noise that got stuck in his head faster than a pop song, which beat in rhythm with his never-ending mental complaints about school.  
For now, his pedals rotated on.  
The best he could do was look forward and smile, even if it broke him down.


	2. Nuts and Bolts

“You’re late, Souda. This is the third time in a row.”  
Waves of snickers and snorts from the class washed upon him. He bit his lip and stared down.  
The teacher, Ms. Sonoda, sternly smiled. She was a stern, yet gentle lady, despite being fresh from graduate school.   
“If this happens any time soon, I’m going to have to call hom-”  
“No thank you!”  
It felt as if the words had a mind of their own and threw themselves out of Kazuichi’s mouth.   
The background chit-chat ceased in one fell swoop.   
All eyes on him. Awesome.   
Their gazes feel like hot licks of fire carving designs of hate into him like a blowtorch. Coincidentally, his face was starting to feel like a flame. Well, his whole body, really.   
“I-I-...uh..” Scrambling for words, he shrunk back to the wall. “I-It’d b-be….I’ll be on time tomorrow!”  
He dashed to his seat in the back faster than he’d ever run, sitting so straight in his chair that his backbone felt carved from wood.   
Through the scattered snickers and laughter, he managed to keep in all teardrops that his face threatened to spill, pulling out his mathematics book to the (thankfully) correct page number. What a relief. A subject he was actually competent in.   
Maybe the structural equations would calm him down for a bit.   
Souda loved math. As long as you knew what you were doing, there was always a definitive end, no buts about it. It was intricate like a woven rug, yet the strongest thing the world had to offer. And thank GOD, he had remembered to complete his homework the night before.   
The past events melted into a hum at the back of his mind. He was ok. For now at least, but still ok.   
He was so ok, in fact, that he nearly missed the bell signaling the next class. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keeping a constant, cheerful hum under his breath, Soda walked to his next class. His favorite class, at that.   
Metalworking.   
It was the only time he could collaborate with Tetsubo, his only friend after the incident last year.   
Lanky and cold, he was amazing at wiring together creations, but wasn’t super skilled in the wirings and synapses of the human brain. Tetsubo had steely grey eyes that nearly perfectly matched the legion of robots he’s created. They were super rare, super cool, and made the dark-brown-eyed Souda jealous. He was more fit to be a Hope’s Peak student in his opinion.   
He looked up to see that he had nearly passed his classroom. Damn, sure is easy to get lost in your own thoughts.   
There weren’t many people in the classroom right now, or in total. His school was almost exclusively academic, and didn’t have many people not aiming to be doctors, or lawyers, or whatever their parents chided them to be. He found sanctuary in any class that had some sort of hands-on techniques.   
I mean, what are you supposed to DO in history? You just sit there and sit there, and it bores you to sleep! No thanks, I’d rather make an entire tank engine than hear about some old geezer who was yelling in World War II and got shot.   
Shit, now he made himself mad. He hadn’t even gone to History class yet!  
Sliding into his chair, he immediately grabbed up a wire cutter and a spool of 10mm wire and began tinkering around. Tetsubo was already present, carefully placing the finishing screws on a robotic dog thing.   
Souda didn’t ask.   
“Sup, Tetsu-bro?” The spectacled boy grinned down at the table, giving him a light nudge from his elbow.   
“Hm.”  
“Haha, me too. Hey, d’ya remember Unit 12’s worksheet from a few years ago? I need help.”  
A silencing stare.   
“Kazuichi, how on earth would you expect me to remember such nonsense?”  
“Eh, you’re right.”  
More usual silence. Typical.   
“Seriously, they’re talking about the weirdest shit, y = m an’ x plus t?”  
“It’s ‘plus B’.”   
“See, this is why i need help!” He swung around, flashing a smug grin.   
He almost caught a flutter of a grin from his senior before he turned away to glance at the other working students.   
“Yeah, you do. In more things than one.”  
Stifling a snicker, his eyes drifted back down to his work. As soon as his gaze met the (currently) useless springs and screws, his entire being lit up, and he furiously began seeing if certain things would fit together. He was enthralled by the complexity simple metal could bring.   
So enthralled, in fact, he didn’t pick up Tetsubo, who had placed his near-finished creation to observe Kazuichi. He had always been impressed with this kid’s lack of concentration in any subject other than engineering. He was a prodigy, no, even a master at his craft, and everyone knew it. He’d hear the teachers’ worried gossip. “Oh, Kazuichi? He’s something all right; making things rivalling professional mechanics, but can’t even keep awake in history.” There was something heartbreakingly hopeful to him. Tetsubo really couldn't wait for everyone to be proud of him.   
He couldn’t wait for Souda to be proud of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES, I haven't updated in forever!   
> Sorry for dropping off of the face of the earth for a year! I didn't have time to write all that much since I was working on finishing my first year in high school.   
> Thank god for summer, right? I'll be sure to produce more content over the free months!

**Author's Note:**

> Ohohoho boy, this is my first fanfic on AO3!  
> I hope I did Kazuichi justice (I love the boy to death please help me).   
> Any feedback is appreciated!


End file.
